Ting!
Shawn's eyes nearly popped when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the notification, confirming the money had landed in his account. His legs carried him almost instinctively toward his cluttered desk.
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, voice suddenly serious.
Anna smirked faintly. Hook, line, sinker.
Betty blinked like a lost child, clearly trying to catch up, but hurried after them as Shawn slid into his chair.
"I want you to find my sister," Anna said firmly. "Kathrine Bennett."
The name dropped like a bomb. Both Shawn and Betty froze, then whipped their heads toward her.
"Wait—Kathrine Bennett? The future heir of Bennett Group?" they asked in unison.
Anna nodded calmly, as though it were no big deal. "Yes. But you must not tell anyone."
Her father's warning echoed in her head—Hugo Bennett had spent years keeping Anna out of the public eye, hiding her from the media while Kathrine basked in the spotlight. And now, Anna couldn't risk her father—or Daniel—catching wind of what she was doing.
Betty's brows knitted, confusion and worry mixing in her expression. "Big Sis… is someone after your life?"
Anna stiffened. She had sensed Betty's curiosity from the start—the way the girl noticed her branded shoes, her expensive phone, her air of wealth despite the casual clothes. Betty had been polite enough to never ask. Until now.
From the other side of the room, Shawn snorted, though his eyes betrayed his nerves. "Look, I'll be blunt—I might be greedy, but I refuse to get killed this young. If your sister's disappearance drags assassins to my door, I'm out."
Anna scoffed, folding her arms. "No one's after my life. And you—" her glare snapped to Shawn, sharp as glass, "—no one's going to kill you either."
Shawn froze under her stare, lips clamping shut. "…If you say so," he muttered reluctantly before turning back to his desk. His fingers flew across the keyboard, opening programs and windows faster than Betty could follow.
"Give me her number."
Anna slid the slip of paper across. Shawn typed it in, ran a trace, and leaned closer to the monitor.
Within minutes, his tone shifted. "Here. I've got something."
Anna and Betty crowded behind him, their breaths caught.
"Your sister hailed a cab to the airport," Shawn explained, eyes narrowing at the data scrolling across his screen. "But she never boarded any flight."
He tapped the monitor. "In fact… her phone's been switched off since then."
Anna's chest tightened. Her gaze locked on the screen, but the numbers and graphs blurred as dread churned in her stomach.
If Kathrine had gone to the airport… why hadn't she left?
And if her phone had been off since that day—
Where was she now?
Anna's fingers curled into fists as a chilling thought whispered at the edge of her mind.
Had her sister disappeared willingly… or had someone made her vanish?
By the time Anna stepped out of Shawn's cluttered apartment, her mind was reeling with questions.
Kathrine hadn't boarded a flight. That meant only two possibilities—she was still in the city… or—
No. It can't be.
Anna shook the thought away, but the shadow of abduction gnawed at her. What unsettled her most was her parents' reaction—or rather, their lack of one. How could they remain so calm when Kathrine had simply vanished?
"Big Sis, I think I should leave now," Anna said finally, her eyes flicking toward Betty, who had been nothing but earnest in helping her.
Betty nodded quickly. "Okay. But don't forget—you have a shoot tomorrow. I'll be waiting for you."
Anna gave her a faint smile before hailing a taxi to her parents house.
However she didn't notice the figure across the street, a phone pressed to their ear, quietly reporting every detail to the devil himself.
***
[Daniel's Office]
"Name: Betty Han. Age: 18. Status: Orphan. Arts student. Part-time job as a spot girl."
Daniel's eyes lingered on the report Henry placed before him. He read each line with clinical precision, his gaze cold and steady—until one detail broke the rhythm of his calm.
Anna's visit to Anklet Studio.Her audition.Her selection.
A low sound escaped him—half chuckle, half scoff. "So… now she wants to work?"
Amusement curled faintly at his lips, but his eyes told a very different story.
Henry stiffened. He stared openly for a second before catching himself. Is he… smiling?
The thought unsettled him. He had worked under Daniel Clafford long enough to know: this man's face was carved from stone. His expressions rarely shifted. But now—his lips twitched, his gaze shimmered, and Henry found himself more rattled by the smile than by Daniel's usual deathly silence.
Quickly composing himself, he cleared his throat. "Boss… are you upset?"
Daniel's gaze lifted, the faint smile still playing at his mouth. "You think I am?"
The question, delivered so smoothly, sent an involuntary chill crawling down Henry's spine. He sat straighter, his pulse betraying him.
'No… he doesn't look upset. But why does it feel worse than if he were?'
Daniel leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. His voice was calm, almost too calm. "What kind of role has my wife auditioned for?"
Henry hesitated. He knew the answer would trigger something, though he wasn't sure what. Still, there was no avoiding it.
"A… corpse role," he admitted carefully.
The silence stretched. Daniel's lips twitched again—this time betraying the laughter threatening to break loose. He pressed his tongue against his cheek, suppressing it with visible effort.
A corpse. His wife had auditioned to play a corpse.
The irony was so sharp, it was almost comical.
Finally, he exhaled slowly, his expression sliding back into its usual controlled composure. Only the dangerous gleam in his eyes betrayed the storm brewing beneath.
"Ahem." He adjusted his cufflinks with deliberate grace, then glanced at Henry. "I need you to do something for me."
The weight in his voice was unmistakable. This wasn't a request.
Henry swallowed, his instincts bristling at the glint of mischief—dark, calculated mischief—that flashed in Daniel's gaze.
It wasn't just a command but something that amused his boss and that thought itself made his stomach twist.